Thursday, December 1, 2022

RAJASHREE MOHAPATRA

 


Some Love Stories Live Long

 

An aeon has passed over

Still is silent, the midnight sky

The songs of moon wake up the stars

Rolls them in dreamy dales

Swaying away.

 

Moments are yet to forget their identity,

It seems they contemplated on love's infinity

The old still remember the love stories told early

As it is believed to continue to live till eternity.

The old monk says,

"Here with you I could remain

For days and years to come

As calm as the bright moon

In a deserted life span.

 

Ungrudging Winter

 

Oh yes,

The azure sky has bent down

And it’s arrogance appears tumbled.

 

Yet of course

It is wondrous to behold the scene

Worthy of a moment

And cheer with little divinity

For the hues of nature may be ready to wilt

In seconds

 

The wind’s breath is quite refreshing

With A pinch of early cold,

The woods stand studded with hazes

That delude morning dews as gold and diamonds

The slanting rays of the sun from the horizon,

Though too rare to be persistent

Yet adds to the said illusion

 

Oh no,

It is the hint of the salutation of a chilled winter,

Though now difficult to define 

Yet in our distant vision

It is with amazing ecstasy and ungrudging pleasure!!!

 

The Avoidable Convulsions

 

Off and on,

The universe is made to convulse

As a resultant prompt of demonic activities

Yet mankind rejoices carelessly,

Leaving the spectrum of life

In a ring of disputed compassion.

 

Before the light of hope goes out

Let kindness and

Empathy rule in every heart

Let us strive to be sincere observers

Of the entire process of evolution

Listen to them,

Feel the challenges thereof

 

It is now the time

To understand the language of

Bleached coral reefs,

Depleting Arctic ice

Rising level of water in sea

 

Each one of our action leaves

An ungrudging

But equal and

Opposite reaction for us.

 

The Invisibles

 

Life and death

Are the two sides of a coin

One follows the other

Irrespective of caste and colour

And above all, the religion.

 

Looks like there exists a secret bond

Between life and death

And it often appears, they are in chains

One provides happiness while the other renders fear

Yet we ignore the truth

And run after the gravy train

 

However

A convulsion from within

Puts me on blaze

I feel annoyed with the questions:

To whom I do love more,

 Is it life?

And whom do I grieve for 

Is it death?

 

I see the life around me,

And realise it every night and day

I do understand death

When my neighbour passes away

One is visible when the other is not

Yet both appear as shinning dew drops

And both are causes of wars so far fought!

 

RAJASHREE MOHAPATRA

 

RAJASHREE MOHAPATRA: Born in Odisha in India has received her master’s degree in 'History ‘and 'Journalism and Mass Communication' from Utkal University, Odisha. She is a teacher by profession. Being a post graduate in ' Environmental Education and Industrial Waste Management ' from Sambalpur University Odisha, she has devoted herself as a Social Activist for the cause of social justice, Environmental issues and human rights in remote areas through non-governmental organisations. Poetry, Painting and Journalism are her passions .


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